by R. J. Lewis
“Toxic or not, you have to force his hand. Do you want to be friend-zoned your whole life?”
“After everything we’ve been through, is that what we really are?”
“If he’s telling people you’re his friend, then yeah, Leah, it is.”
Fuck.
We returned to work after that. I was collecting empty plates from deserted tables when I heard a couple talking just behind me. Their laughter drew me in, and to distract myself, I listened to their conversation.
“When we get married, you’re going to tell my mother to fuck off forever, I swear, babe,” the man said to his girl. “If she doesn’t accept you, then she’s not welcome in our lives. You’re my whole world now.”
I smiled a little and turned my head to look at them. They were a few years older than me, holding hands, chatting with smiles on their faces. Completely open and honest about what they were to the world. Judging by her happiness, she didn’t have to skirt around her man’s commitment issues. He was gazing at her like a love-struck puppy, ready and willing to give her the world.
I felt something tear inside my chest. I was caught surprised by how jealous I was of them. I couldn’t believe how powerful the feeling was, spiking even my heartrate as I stared on.
Jealousy. It was a poisonous feeling, and it was capable of consuming every last drop of you. I’d tried living in denial, thinking that green-eyed-monster could be avoided, but like a shadow it followed me around, until I had no power left to push it away.
I felt emotional. More than usual. Reality seemed to finally have broken through my armour. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized being with Carter the way we were wasn’t healthy. That it was consuming too much of my time and thoughts. My emotions had become dependent upon him, and somewhere along the way I’d lost a part of who I was.
I didn’t even know where to start in claiming that part back.
This strange epiphany rocked me to the core, causing my eyes to drift to the stage where Carter was. He was looking back at me with uncertain eyes, and I swear he knew.
He knew exactly what I was thinking.
Fifteen
Rome drove us back. I sat in the backseat, quiet, peering out the window at the deserted streets. My chest felt heavy with indecision. The closer we were getting home, the closer I was to confronting the dreaded truth.
Rome kept trying to catch my eye in the rear view mirror, silently asking me what the matter was. Always attentive, he never missed a beat. Carter, on the other hand, kept his gaze out the window too, equally quiet. He sensed it. When he drew near to me under the awning of the bar, he could see the conflicted look in me as I pulled away from him. He’d almost looked powerless.
“Chin up,” Rome whispered to me as we parted ways at the house. He went to the front door and we went to the back where our suite was located. I followed Carter in the dark, feeling the sweat from the summer air trickle between my shoulder blades. It would be good to get this damn uniform off. Mel was a size smaller than me and the uniform had felt constricting all night.
Carter pulled out the keys and shoved it in the door. He pushed it open and we walked in. I stared at his back as he turned on the light and threw his keychain down on the kitchen counter. We didn’t say a word. He went to the bathroom and I heard the shower pipes go on. I tidied up around the apartment before he got out. It was a feat of its own not ogling him in a towel on my way into the bathroom to have my turn.
I spent a lot of time under the hot spray, running what happened through my head. I thought of the way he said friend, how he looked when he said it, and the anger for being put in that position. My body shook with the urge to go out and ask him where I stood in his life, but speaking when I was this emotional didn’t seem like a good idea. I bottled it up instead.
When I finished, I wrapped the towel around me and headed for my bedroom – because sleeping together was still against his rules. Walking in, I was startled to find Carter leaning against my dresser with his arms crossed. He was usually sprawled in bed at this point, not standing there in nothing but his usual briefs, looking like we were going to discuss something heavy.
I stared at him once before opening the drawer of the scratched-to-shit tallboy. The drawer creaked annoyingly, reminding me why second-hand furniture that sold at a bizarrely cheap price wasn’t always an investment. I pulled out the nightgown and then tried closing it. The drawer shuddered and the tallboy shook as I pushed and then stopped because it wasn’t going to fucking close.
“I’ll fix it,” I heard Carter say.
I sighed and turned around. “Okay.”
Then we just stood there for several moments. The air was charged, and I was very uneasy. He stared at me for a long time, his eyes hard, his mouth pressed in a line. He seemed cloudier than usual. He’d had a few beers, so perhaps he was a little tipsy.
“You’re not your usual self,” he finally muttered.
I didn’t want to talk about this now. I looked away instead.
“Leah,” he pressed softly. “I can read you like a book. I know you were upset at the table.”
Without helping it, I opened my mouth and retorted, “You mean when you referred to me as your friend?”
He exhaled loudly. “It was an asshole move, I get it.”
“It’s not an asshole move if that’s how you really feel. I’m actually glad to know that’s what I am to you. Just a friend –”
“Fuckin’ hell, Leah, I was put on the spot. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“You weren’t thinking straight,” I repeated with scepticism.
“That’s the truth.”
“And if someone asked you again what I was to you, what would your answer be?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He shut it back and readjusted his stance against the dresser, no longer looking me in the eye.
Well, there you go.
“Wow,” I mumbled in shock. “Now that’s the truth, huh? Well, look, I’m not going to start a fight about what happened. I’d like some space tonight to think things through.”
“Think what through?” he demanded, his eyes back on mine, wider than before.
“Just… things,” I said sharply.
“Don’t overthink it, Leah.”
I didn’t reply. I left the room and returned to the bathroom. Shutting it, I threw my towel off and shrugged into my nightgown. Then I sat on the edge of the tub and tried to avoid addressing the ache in the pit of my being.
What were my options? That looming depression formed like a cloud over my head once more. My patience was depleted. I thought time would help bring us closer together, that he’d look at me one morning and tell me I was it for him. That day wasn’t coming.
Forget it.
I had to focus on other things. Like my impending school year at Uni. Yeah, see, this was more important. Boys were not.
I repeated that mantra over and over again until I calmed down.
He was in his room by the time I returned to mine.
*
I had a lot of space for some time.
The band had been gone for a few days, taking part in gigs in other towns nearby. Because of this, Carter didn’t return until late at night. I was in bed by that point, pretending to be asleep. And every time he stepped through the door, he’d stop and check in on me.
I forced the distance more than I ever did before. I needed to do it as a way to measure just how attached to him I’d become.
The results were disturbing.
He was on my mind every second. I could hardly function without contact. I grabbed at my phone every half hour, fighting the urge to text him and see what he was up to. I felt like a bunny boiler.
“You gotta toughen up,” Melanie told when I opened up to her about it. “You’re attached to him way too much. You need to be your own person.”
She was right.
“How do I do that?” I asked her. “He’s all I’ve ever really know
n, Mel. We grew up together. I did everything with him. He’s the only person that’s been my constant and…”
“If he’s like a drug, Leah, then you need to go through withdrawal. Keep yourself occupied. Don’t give yourself time to think.”
I followed her advice. My armour went on. Things gradually did change over time, and I worked very hard to detach my feelings when it came to him. I focused on earning the money at the bar, being supportive of the band, and spending time with Melanie outside of work.
The distance I forced seemed to help. It didn’t solve the problem, but it pushed it back so I faced it later. Which was a coward’s move, I know, but it was working fine with me.
When he returned from all his shows, it was harder when he was around. I worked hard in the evenings, running from table to table, avoiding Carter’s like it didn’t exist. He knew something was up, and he tried to make it up most nights in bed. But I pushed him away, telling him I was tired and needed space. He gave me that space and I was thankful he at least respected my wishes.
It was two weeks after that “friend” incident that I found myself leaning back against the wall of the bar, watching him sing a sad song, that I touched on thoughts of letting him go. It hurt too much. In fact, my chest ached and my vision swam, but I questioned the alternative.
I’d be hurt if I let him go, but would having him and not necessarily having him hurt more? If I carried the pain during my academic years, was it going to fuck it up for me? Because concentrating on things other than him these days seemed like the world’s biggest chore. How was it going to be like during an exam? Or studying for that exam?
My mental health could not afford to be fucked. I needed a better life. I wanted to be something, and I couldn’t do that if I was hung up on a guy that viewed me as his fucking friend.
It was a move that made sense to me.
“So I’ve been curious to know your name.”
I jumped and whipped my head to the side. I blinked twice at the man standing next to me before I realized who he was. That dark haired man – the eavesdropper from before – was sidling up next to me. He’d come around a few times since that time, and I only began noticing him because of that awkward moment.
His eyes then dropped to my chest, and I thought he was checking out my boobs until he said, “Ah. Melanie.”
I cringed. Wore the wrong uniform again. I’d hardly noticed after losing a bit more weight lately. “No, no. I’m wearing my friend’s uniform. I’m Leah.”
“Leah. That’s a very pretty name.” He nodded, a sexy smile forming. “I’m Peter.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.”
Cue awkward silence. Well, maybe just on my end. He got comfortable next to me, indicating he was most definitely not going to go anywhere anytime soon, and we watched the band in silence. I hoped he’d eventually move on and leave me alone. I wasn’t in the mood to socialize.
Distracting me, I spotted a girl jumping and screaming over Carter’s voice. “I want you! Be with me! I want you, Caaaaarterrrrrrr!” she shrilled.
I felt a shudder all the way to my bones. Could you be any more blatant?
“Know them?” Peter then asked, motioning to the band. “Noticed you were around them a while back.”
“Yeah,” I answered. “They’re good guys.”
“They sound great.”
“Only because they’ve poured a lot of hard work the last year into their music.”
“I can tell. Being in a band isn’t easy.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t do it.” Sometimes it stressed me out when they started putting songs together after Carter finished writing one. There was so much that went into it, and it took true talent to weave the sounds in the way they did.
“I’m new to the area,” he then said, scooting a little closer to me. He smelled pretty good, nothing overwhelming like some of the guys here, but it made me uncomfortable just the same. So I scooted away. “Do they always play here?”
I nodded shortly. “Yeah, sometimes they go to other bars or events, but it’s mainly here.”
“Cool.”
Realizing he wouldn’t go away and needing to find a way not to obsess over the girl and her shrilling voice, I sighed and asked, “How new are you around here?”
“About a month. I just graduated and got offered a job here in town.”
“Congratulations.”
He shrugged. “It’s nothing to brag about.”
I nearly scoffed. This guy just got his degree, something I’d been dreaming about for years and he was playing it off like it was nothing.
“What’d you study?” I asked curiously.
“Accounting,” he answered.
Now my interest suddenly perked. “No way, so am I.”
His eyes widened. “No shit?”
“Well, I will be anyway in September.”
“Good luck. Hope you do better than me.”
“Why? Is it hard? Please don’t tell me it’s hard. I’m so nervous about the first year. Like I’ll fail epically or something.”
He laughed. “Don’t freak out. First year is always the hardest because you gotta get your head wrapped around everything. I’d say the way you study is going to change drastically.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. A lot of work, but if you stick it out, you should get into the swing of things.”
I nodded, taking on board his words wholeheartedly. “Okay.”
He seemed a lot more interested in talking now. “What made you want to go into it?”
“I like accounting. I’m good with numbers.”
My favourite heroine from one of my steamy – and cheesy – reads had been an accountant, and something about pencil skirts and an office job was tempting beyond belief. Also, I loved money. Who doesn’t when they grew up with nothing?
We chatted a little more. He told me about the courses he took and I tentatively listened. Sometime during the conversation, I stopped thinking about the shrilling girl and looked back at the band. A lightning spike of alarm shot through me when I saw Carter’s eyes on mine. He didn’t look happy at all, and I stilled, wondering what I did that was so wrong. It wasn’t like I was dangling my boobs in this guy’s face. Not that my boobs were big enough to be dangled anywhere, but you get the point.
“Yay, you found her,” Mel suddenly said, stopping in front of us. She stared at Peter with a huge smile. “You know, my girl here loves to dance.”
“Not really,” I immediately replied, scowling at her.
“Oh, don’t be shy, babe. Go and have fun. I’ll cover you for another five.”
I looked at Peter and realized he’d already extended his hand out to me. Oh, fuck. There was that brief split second of indecision. I tried to find the right words to say no, but anything I said would sound like a flat-out rejection, and I didn’t want to humiliate him. You couldn’t live that kind of awkwardness down, right?
With a sigh, I finally took his hand with my own. He led me to the dance floor just as Mel whispered in my ear, “You’ll thank me later.”
Thank her later? I didn’t fucking think so!
Peter pulled me close to him and I naturally slipped my arm around his neck. Everything about it felt all wrong to me, so I turned my head to avoid looking him in the eyes. I looked over at Mel and she was having a field day, glancing up at Carter and then at me. She secretly gave me a thumbs up and scurried off to collect empty glasses from deserted tables.
The bar had slowed down heaps. It was close to closing time, so there weren’t many people left, except for the groupies swooning over Carter like a bunch of pussies in heat. I didn’t once look at him as I rocked to and fro with Peter, but when the guy started to lower his hand down my spine, I took his arm and pulled it back up.
He chuckled at the move. “Sorry, it just slipped, I swear.”
Yeah, I was sure it did.
As soon as the song ended, his friends at his table hollered and
whistled. Peter laughed again, a little red in the face. I pulled away from him and nervously tucked my hair behind my ear. I didn’t have time to find an escape route because one his friends called out, “Hey, Peter, introduce us to your blondie!”
Peter looked nervous and shook his head at me. “Sorry. Do you mind…?”
I stared at the guys, both drunk and grinning like mischievous idiots. I shrugged at Peter and followed him to the table. He introduced me to them and I didn’t even remember their names the second Peter said them. I was too busy glancing over my shoulder at the guys who were starting to pack their instruments away. Carter was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s the other girl?” one of the guys asked. “She’s so hot!”
I cringed. “Melanie?”
“Melanie? Is that her name? Fuck, that’s a nice name. There’s a lot I can do with that name.”
Peter cleared his throat, looking between his friends and me, seeming a bit uncomfortable. “They’re just a bit drunk,” he told me quietly. “I’m the designated driver, so I gotta put up with their shit…”
“It’s okay,” I told him.
“Whatever!” one of them said. “You’re just as bad! Don’t lie.”
Peter’s face fell as he glared at his friends.
That was my cue to go. “Well, look, I gotta go back to work and help my friend out, okay?”
He looked back at me and nodded. “Sure.”
“Get her number!” one of his friends pushed. “Don’t be a pussy!”
“I don’t give my number to strangers,” I replied, looking at him. “That’s just one of my rules. Sorry.”
I noticed the disappointment flooding his face as he nodded once at me. “Stranger? Shit, right. Sorry for putting you on the spot like that. Of course you don’t know me…Well, anyway, I’ll just see you around then, Leah.”
“Yeah, sure.”
He smiled. “Great. Good night.”
I hesitantly smiled back and he gently touched my arm and pulled away. I returned to work, and I felt bad because I could hear his friends laughing at him. I didn’t have it in me to turn around and look. I was glad I didn’t give him my number. There was absolutely no chemistry there, and the thought of starting any kind of friendship with another guy made my stomach turn. It was too exhausting.